The Hero of His Own Story

FLASHBACK

“Daddy? Dean? What’s going on?”

His father – emotions usually held tightly in check – looked strange with the ‘deer in the headlights’ expression plastered over his face.

“Dad wants to keep you away from me” Dean said after a moment’s pause, still not turning around to face Sam. He appeared to be pointing something at their father. But when Sam tried to get a closer look at it, Dean shifted his body, effectively shielding it from view.

“But Dean, that’s ridiclus.”

“Ridiculous” Dean corrected.

“Ridiculous,” Sam repeated obediently, “Daddy wouldn’t do that.” Sam turned expectant eyes at John.

John hesitated, gaze flitting towards Dean before settling on Sam. “Sammy, your brother’s… sick.”

“Sick?” Sam asked, cocking his head as he looked at his brother. “He looks okay.”

“Sammy, he’s sick up here,” John said, tapping his head with his index finger.

“He has a headache?”

“No, he thinks I’m buckets of crazy.” Dean interrupted.

“Dean, you need help. I can get you help,” John implored.

“No, you’re not taking Sammy away from me. He’s only six. He needs me. How could you even think to…” Dean’s voice shook with rage.

Sam had never heard his brother sound like that before. He gave a start when Dean suddenly addressed him.

“Sammy, go to your room. When you get there, cover your ears and sing ‘Twinkle Twinkle Little Star’ as loud as you can. Don’t stop until I come get you.”

“Dean?”

“I SAID GO TO YOU ROOM!” Dean roared.

Sam’s eyes filled with tears – his brother had never yelled at him before. He immediately turned and ran as fast as his six year old legs could take him.

Running into the bedroom he shared with his brother, Sam dove under the bed, slamming his little hands over his ears as he began to sing as loudly as he could.

But it wasn’t enough to drown out the sound of two yelling voices or the gunshot that finally rang out.

END FLASHBACK

***

Sam awoke with a gasp, sitting bolt upright, ignoring the ever familiar (and hated) clinking sound. Sam ignored the throbbing in his right ankle as he tried to wash the memory of the dream out of his mind. He was surprised though that he had actually remembered it. It had been eight long years ago.

“Sammy?”

Sam turned to meet the head poking around the door frame. “Dean, don’t you have work?”

“Dude,” Dean said, walking into the room and claiming a spot on the edge of Sam’s bed, “I work the night shift. No one’s gonna know if I rock up late.”

Personally, Sam thought otherwise. But he wasn’t stupid enough to correct his brother. “You should go though Dean, just in case. I don’t want you to get into trouble.”

“You’re a good kid Sam,” Dean said, bracing Sam by his shoulders and planting a brief kiss on his forehead. It was then that Dean noticed his ankle.

“Too tight?” Dean asked. Without waiting for an answer, Dean loosened the shackle around Sam’s ankle, careful though to ensure that he didn’t loosen it enough so that Sam could slip his foot right through it. He then checked that the chain was still attached to the post at the foot of the bed.

With a quick “Be right back”, Dean left the room momentarily, returning with a syringe. “Now, I’ll be back before you wake up. I’ll take you to school and wait for you in the car. Just don’t be nervous about your first day, okay kiddo?”

Sam nodded, not even wincing as the needle entered his arm. The warmth spread through him quickly as he allowed Dean to lay him back down. He was out as soon as his head hit the pillow.

***

Rich was possibly one of the most spoilt young men that had walked the earth and everyone knew it. His parents knew it, his teachers and classmates knew it. Hell, even he knew it. But whilst others may find it a disagreeable trait, Rich had always worked it to his advantage. Whenever he wanted something, he need only soften his face and pout and his parents would cave every time. Everything and anything Rich wanted would become his. So when Sam Winchester walked through the door to his first period maths class, Rich knew two things.

Firstly, Sam Winchester was the most gorgeous creature he had ever beheld, and that was in a long line of notches on his bedpost. His pretty hazel eyes looked open and trusting, he had cute dimples that first showed when he gave a shy smile to the class, had smooth skin the colour of caramel and silky curls that positively shined under the classroom light.

Secondly, he had to have him.

But as Rich quietly observed the new boy from his seat in the back of the class, he couldn’t help but feel that Sam Winchester would be much different from his previous conquests. He would need to carefully deliberate on the matter. But firstly, he needed to introduce himself to the boy.

***

“Sam, right? Mind if I sit here?”

The new boy looked up at him surprised. He looked even better closer up, with the cutest mole along the bridge of his nose. It made Rich want to –

“You w-wanna sit here?”

Sam’s voice was soft and melodious. Rich decided he liked it.

“Did I stutter?” Rich asked kindly.

“Sure, I guess, if you wanna” Sam said, moving his books out of the way to make room for Rich.

But Rich also noticed Sam glancing beyond the school boundaries as he did so. Following his gaze, Rich saw that Sam had been looking at an older man who was staring intently back at him. The man looked to be only a few years older than Sam, had short brown hair, wore a leather jacket, and bore a strange looking necklace around his neck. The man was also sporting an extremely possessive look – almost feral even. Now the ordinary man, upon seeing that look, would’ve had the sense to walk away. But being the boy who had never been denied anything in his entire life, Rich didn’t even give it a second glance.

Rich held out his hand for Sam to shake. “I’m -”

“Rich,” Sam supplied, meeting Rich’s hand with his own.

Sam’s skin was soft and supple. Rich could get used to that.

“How’d you know?”

“I’m psychic,” Sam deadpanned, flitting another quick look at ‘weirdo man’ beyond the boundaries. When he saw Rich looking at him, as if unsure Sam’s sarcastic reply was a joke or an invitation to be left alone, he explained, “The girls at the school talk a lot.”

“And what do the girls say?” Rich snuck a glance at ‘weirdo man’, noticing that he had become somewhat unsettled, shifting his weight between his feet.

“You’re Richard Witherington, Rich for short. You’re two years older than everyone else in our year, but that’s because you were really sick when you were young. Your dad struck it big when he was young so you’re the richest family in town. But that’s not why all the girls want you to take them to the dance,” and here Sam adopted a high pitched voice, “Rich is so dreamy, that wavy blonde hair, green eyes. And so tall, so cute, so gorgeous, he’s like, so, like, whoah.”

It wasn’t very often that someone caught Rich’s eye, possessing both good looks and personality. He threw back his head and laughed.

But as they continued to talk throughout the lunch break, Rich noticed several odd things about his new companion.

Firstly, Sam was softly spoken (God that was so irresistible) and after the initial introductions, seemed quite reticent to continue talking to Rich. But it appeared that Sam was also equally determined not to be rude and applied himself to conversation.

Secondly, it looked to Rich that Sam wasn’t used to talking much, and it didn’t seem normal that Sam was so flattered that someone was interested in him enough to ask him questions about himself.

And thirdly, what was with that weirdo guy hanging around outside the school? Every few minutes, Sam would glance at the man, as if silently asking for permission to talk to Rich.

In the end, curiousity got the better of him. “Hey Sam, who’s your stalker?” Rich jutted his head in the direction of the strange man.

A look of panic crossed Sam’s face. But Rich was sure he must’ve imagined it because the look disappeared as quickly as it appeared.

“My brother,” Sam answered.

“Your brother is stalking you?”

“Dean’s not stalking me,” Sam defended quickly – a little too quickly. “he’s just waiting to pick me up from school.”

“Sam,” Rich said slowly, “school isn’t out til another 3 hours.”

“He’s just keeping an eye on me, that’s all,” Sam mumbled, before changing the subject.

But Rich rather thought that there was something not quite right about Dean Winchester. And that could put a crimp in his plans.


TBC